The Japanese craft beer world has always had something of a complex, if I may be allowed to say so. It has never had its truly own national style of beer (“Dry” doesn’t quite count–the original idea was German). Belgian beers, whether the uniquely funky and sour lambics, Flemish reds or browns, or their spiced strong ales, are distinctively Belgian, just as stouts and bitters are clearly of the British Isles. Czechs have their pilsner, and Germany seems to have a different representative beer for just about every part of the country. And even though they are copied the world over, hoppy IPAs will always be thought of as American. There is not yet beer like that made in Japan–a beer that drinkers immediately recognize as something Japanese, but that is not from lack of effort. There are beer-sake hybrids and various beers using sake rice and koji, which may indeed be the most wafu (Japanese-style) of all, but as we discussed those in JBT18, we will leave them alone here. There is also a plethora of beers made with Japanese citrus and other fruits, many of which have become popular in American and European craft brewing as well, but we have previously discussed these too, in JBT20, so again, that is not the subject of the moment.
Another of the ways in which craft brewers here have tried, and keep trying, to make uniquely Japanese beers is by adding uniquely Japanese–or uniquely Japanese sounding–ingredients to them. These include, aside from so many citrus fruits, various parts of the cherry tree, green tea, matcha, and roasted brown tea; miso or other soy products; wasabi, spices like sansho, herbs like shiso (a Perilla variety); dashi (a savory soup stock), bonito flakes (and other kinds of fish), goya (bitter melon), and the list goes on.
Generally, I think we can break down wafu beers into two categories: 1. Omiyage (souvenir) beers made with a local agricultural product (meibutsu) that people expect to see in things from the area surrounding the breweries, and that are often added to the beer for marketing’s sake, and 2. Radical craft beer experiments wherein a brewer comes across a new ingredient that he/she thinks would work well in beer, and brews a beer to use it in. Of course, there is always some overlap, if only that any wafu ingredient immediately offers a new marketing opportunity. The point is more the motive behind the beer, which of course is not always transparent to the drinker. The general advice goes something like this: Beer with bonito flakes? Brewery located near the sea and bonito is a local meibutsu? Buyer beware! Indeed, the first brewery to try this closed not long afterwards. Or is it a brewer that you know making great beers and looking for extra smokiness in their rauchbier (which bonito might impart)? Hmmm, this could be good! In the end, however, all you can really do is try it and see. More than a decade’s search for wafu beers has turned up a large number of brewing atrocities, to be sure, but there have also been many uniquely crafted gems. In this article, we will mainly stick to the gems, or at least the near-gems.
To begin, one classic wafu beer that people seem to either love or hate is Helios Goya Dry. A crisp pale lager that uses bitter melon (an Okinawa meibutsu) to complement its hops, it is profoundly bitter, and until the vegetal taste of the goya starts to take over in the finish, one might be forgiven for thinking it was just heavily hopped. That bitter goya burn lasts a long time thereafter. It can be quite refreshing, especially in the Okinawan sunshine, but if bitter melon isn’t a favorite of yours on the plate, it probably won’t be in your glass either. It has been the brewery’s flagship beer since 1996, however, and has managed to straddle the line between the omiyage beer and the craft one.
Since so many different wafu beers have already been attempted, it will be no use to simply go on listing them. We need to bring some order to this chaos, so the remaining analysis will be broken into six categories, based upon some of the more ubiquitous and successful additives: Soy, Japanese Herbs, Sakura, Tea, Sansho, and lastly, Fish/Dashi.
Soy: One of the oldest and best-known beers using miso is Nagoya Akamiso Lager from Kinshachi. This is easy to find and really worth a try. While adding a local meibutsu, this uses a German-style dunkel as the base beer, one that is rich and malty, and with which the savory aspects of the miso blend quite well. Kizakura has produced their Tamba no Kuromame beer for years as well, though it gets less attention than the rest of their lineup. Using roasted black soybeans from northern Kyoto, it has a sweet, nutty flavor reminiscent of kinako (roasted soybean) powder, and is quite tasty. Lately some brewers have gotten more adventurous and even added soy sauce to their beers: T.Y. Harbor Sudachi Soy Infused Gose was mostly driven by sudachi tartness, but the soy sauce as a substitution for the usual salt addition was innovative and added a pleasantly savory wafu touch. The soy sauce was even less pronounced in Mihoh’s Shodoshima Yamaroku Ale, which was like a strong American pale ale with a slight savory edge.
Herbs: Atsugi beer made Shiso Ale for years, and it was quite a convincing brew: deep brown, with chocolate notes and a tangy plum-like character that blended well with the red perilla leaves. That isn’t seen much lately, replaced, in a sense, by Mugizen, an “Oriental Herb Liqueur” with Atsugi’s Belgian Dubbel as its base. Mugizen includes ginger, kumazasa bamboo grass, persimmon leaves, Job’s tears and turkey tail mushrooms. It definitely reads like a visit to the classical Chinese medical doctor, and on the brewpub’s menu it is even referred to as “herbal medicine”. Coedo introduced the shiso beer to the world with Tsuyu Saison, a collaboration with Stone and Garage Project which used ume and shiso in a saison that was aged in New Zealand Chardonnay barrels. It was a huge hit on three or four continents, although it could be said that the shiso kind of got lost in the mix. The Shiroyama Brewery in Kagoshima has long used fruit and herbal additions in its beers. Two of the more interesting herb beers are their Biwa-cha Pale Ale, with a bitter, herbal, tea-like character, and their Lemongrass, with a big, refreshing lemongrass hit. It comes off rather like an herbal version of a Belgian Wit.
Sakura: While the idea of fermenting craft beer with yeast taken from cherry trees has something of a long history in Japan, it has lately given way to a trend of using pickled cherry leaves in the beer, to create a “sakuramochi” effect–making the beer taste like the cherry leaf rice cakes that are popular during blossom viewing season. Sankt Gallen Sakura was the first such beer, adding both cherry flowers and leaves. On the wave of its success several others have followed, including Haru Ranman from Rokko Beer, Gotemba Kogen Sakura Hime, and most radically, Yo-Ho’s Sakura Mochi Stout, a sweet, spicy affair tasting like sakuramochi dipped in cinnamon chocolate. There has also been a barrel-aged version of this.
Tea: Various types of green and brown tea are regularly consumed in Japan, and it would seem natural to find them in beer. Due to the subtlety of the ingredient, however, it has yet to make as big a splash as that made by rivals like coffee or chocolate. Kinshachi Matcha Draft was one of the earliest tea beers. Despite a disproportionately bitter finish, it was a consistent seller for much of its ten-year run–it is listed as out of production now. I haven’t come across any craft beer fan who longs for its return now that the sub-category has evolved.
One of the best-known beers using green tea is Baird Wabi-Sabi Japan Pale Ale, a hybrid between an American pale ale and an IPA that uses not only local Shizuoka green tea, but wasabi as well. This is a subtle, balanced combination that is hop-directed to the core, with the tea and wasabi staying in the background but definitely adding that touch of “wa”. Wasabi, by the way, has become a darling product of many craft brewers throughout the world. Sad to say, few have learned to use it as subtly as this, leading much of the time to disaster–as in the case of de Molen Wasabi Saison, which was possibly the worst idea this great brewer ever had.
Kyoto Beer Lab brands several of its products as “Chabeer”. While they make a wide variety of beers, many of them cutting-edge sours and stouts, they have a solid lineup of beers using Japanese teas. Houjicha Stout is a favorite, with the toasty, roasty, nutty flavor of the brown tea going very well with the bitter chocolate notes of the stout. Others are Kabusecha White Ale, a wheat beer with subtle tea notes, and Green Tea Ale, which is like an American pale ale with nice accompanying tea flavors. Green Tea Pilsner is also very drinkable. All of these beers have managed to be quite tea-forward while fully tasting like beer, and are all worth trying.
For a huge matcha knockout, you might try Kizakura’s Kyoto Bakushu Matcha Ale, which at 9% ABV and with a deep, thick emerald green appearance is extreme indeed. This is another beer that splits opinions down the middle. Some love its matcha latte-like creaminess and tea bitterness. I found it resembled a kale-matcha smoothie more than a beer, but hey, it was certainly a new experience. Nara Brewing’s Eighty Eight is a green tea saison that is making huge waves. It is citrusy and spicy, and the green tea adds a subtle herbal bitterness that makes it crisp and refreshing.
Sansho: That most Japanese of spices, so wonderful on grilled unagi eels or udon noodles, has also found its way into more and more beers. In beer, it adds a peppery, citrus flavor that is somewhat reminiscent of hops but spicier. Iwate Kura Japanese Herb Ale Sansho is probably the best example of a full-on sansho-driven beer that is widely available. It is lightly malty, with the peppery, lemony notes of the spice taking center stage. Drinking more than one might be difficult, but it is a unique experience.
Hitachino Nest Pirika is another sansho-driven punch of flavor–a session ale that also uses yuzu. It’s making waves among craft beer lovers abroad. Now widely available in Japan as well, it is worth a try, although it seems to me a bit too additive-driven.
Slightly more sparing and balanced is Zakkoku Kobo Sansho Porter. A rich, chocolaty dark beer, the sansho here complements the hops with citrus spiciness. The spice brings it close to a hoppy black IPA in some ways. It is perfectly drinkable and balanced.
Though brewed at De Graal in Belgium, Kagua Rouge, Blanc, and Saison manage to keep their Belgian ale character while employing copious amounts of sansho. They are all very well-made, very Japanese beers, although I personally find the sansho a bit too overbearing in each of them.
Fish/Dashi: Last, and least, we come to fish-based products as beer additives. We are all familiar with the oyster stout, which had its birth in the British Isles and brings no particular associations with Japan–but if interested, try Iwate Kura’s or Ise Kadoya’s versions, which are world-class. With the world-wide craze for all things “umami” bringing a particular sense of pride to many Japanese, it is inevitable that ingredients in dashi also find their way into beer, which is, after all, a kind of fermented dashi itself.
Although it seems that the now defunct Tosa Kuroshio Brewery was the first to attempt a bonito flake beer, there can be no doubt that Yo-Ho Brewing has become better known through its Sorry! series of beers, particularly its Umami IPA, which has been brewed a number of times. This was particularly interesting in being an Umami IPA, rather than a richer, darker beer, as might have been expected to fit with the smoky, savory flavor of bonito flakes. It has been quite a hit, although the bonito character might come out better if there was a bit less orange peel and coriander also in there.
Other attempts in this vein have included Ise Kadoya’s Dasi Ale and Minami Yokohama Beer Labo’s Torigara (Chicken Stock) IPA. One might say that both were slightly more weird than memorable. There have been several mushroom beers made as well, but none really worth mentioning. I think we can conclude that, at least for now, dashi beers are not quite showing all that much potential.
When using wafu ingredients, the first thing one should ask is, do I want to make a delicious, balanced beer, or do I want to simply showcase the additive? As readers might expect, for me the obvious correct answer is the former. We are talking about beer here, and a good beer is one you wish to return to time and time again. Although there are several wafu beers that fit that description–many of those listed here, in fact–there is still a strong tendency to take the latter option, with the approach being: “As a Japanese, I love (fill in the blank), so the more the better!” This approach tends to lead to gimmickry, which can of course be fun at times, and which has become more and more acceptable in a craft beer world that is enamored of milkshake IPAs and spiced, fruited, sweetened kettle sours. But gimmickry usually does not impress for long, and is not likely to lead to a product that is fully representative of innovative craft brewing in Japan. So let us hope to keep seeing new wafu beers so that we might find an accessible, balanced, very Japanese type of brew that truly grabs people’s attention.
All Beer Styles articles are written by Mark Meli, author of Craft Beer in Japan.
This article was published in Japan Beer Times # () and is among the limited content available online. Order your copy through our online shop or download the digital version from the iTunes store to access the full contents of this issue.
